


Ten Hail Mary's.

by saviorbrother



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, M/M, Multi, Priest!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5972092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saviorbrother/pseuds/saviorbrother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>“Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.”</strong><br/>― Blaise Pascal, Pensées <strong></strong></p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Hail Mary's.

**Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. (Colossians 3:5)**

 

Dean and Jensen Winchester wear rosaries around their waists with the crosses hanging just below their navels. The cuts of their hips only help to accentuate the holy pieces direct Sam's eyes toward the flesh of his affections. What would be, if he wasn't bound by his vow to the Church. 

At the swimming pool they have in the back for those who can't afford their own, which would be most, he can see their jeans falling low enough to show blonde thatches of hair. This summer has been most difficult for everyone, especially Sam, and the chlorine water is full of people each day.

"Father Sam," the gruff voice makes him gasp in surprise, gripping his bible tighter to his chest.

"Father John, how are you?" Sam says feebly.

Warm eyes study his face with a slanted smile. Their father is nothing like them, Sam knows John did an honest job with the twins after their mom died, he can't figure out how they turned out so...

"My boys giving you any trouble?" the older man nods at the two sitting next to each other, feet in the water.

"No, never, sir."

John takes a sip of the lemonade Jo mixed up earlier and stares at them with a thoughtful gaze. Never mind that both "boys" are twenty-six and dependent on each other, only, and they're still seen as young, troubled youth. 

"Good. You need to relax and get outta those clothes. No one said you have to wear your clerical clothing to watch the pool," his mentor, Sam assumes that's what John is, cackles as he walks away towards his wife.

Kate was a sweet woman and Sam got Adam as a friend out of it, younger than him, but maturing.

The air around Dean and Jensen is still amongst chaos. The water near their feet ripples gently with the swinging of their legs, unaffected from the cannon balls and splashing erupting around kids and parents. He's on the other side and can't stop staring at the oddness of the way they carry themselves and how they influence all things around themselves. Time, air, movement slows in that personal bubble they have.

"I'm sure my friends wouldn't mind if you said hello," a stiff voice supplies beside him.

Something icy races down his spine when he turns to find Castiel standing to his right. He's a peculiar acquaintance of the brothers. Electric blue eyes meet his when the man turns his head slowly to look at him.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he shoots back, monotone.

Sam hasn't seen Castiel smile at anyone except the Winchester's and to see a creepy spread of lips directed at him forces sweat to roll down into the dip of his collar. It looks forced and suggestive.

"Sure. I'm being called away now. See you soon, Samuel," Castiel trots off, gone quicker than he came.

He follows the pale line of Cas's body around the square pool over to where he sits next to Dean and whispers into his ear. 

Sam's eyes widen when all three look up at him, simultaneously. The twins have dark shades on and lollipops in their mouths, no shirt on and jeans ripped to hell rolled up to their knees. His blood runs frozen when they both raise an arm and their thick fingers do the wave to say hi to him. 

"Sam! Come on over here!" John calls for him.

He might have waved back if he hadn't been distracted and when he looks at them again, they're staring back down at their feet in the water. 

Instead, John asks him to help Adam along with bible study tonight since he's going out with Kate. At his house. Where the twins eat dinner every night before going back to their own apartment. Adam tells him all the time how much he wishes they'd just go get their own food instead of hogging all the biscuits.

"The boys should be stopping by around eight to eat, but they'll keep to themselves," Kate smiles at him from her chair, blonde hair tied into a ponytail.

The children and parents yelling rushes to his head quicker than the flood of emotion e gets after prayer. Digging his fingertips into his book won't help him and his collar digs into his sweaty neck.

"What's a'matter, Sam? Look like you've seen a ghost," Adam comments, a smug look on his face.

"No, no I'll do it. Momma will be at a late service with Bobby tonight, so I have nothing better to do," he shrugs and gives them his best smile.

\---

Sam pledged his virginity to God and vowed to celibacy. 

" For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God. Thessalonians 4:3-5," Sam recites to Adam across the table.

"Alright, another one, go!" the younger begs, leaning across the table.

"Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. Corinthians 6:9-10."

Sam feels some of these like a punch to the gut. Many know he doesn't favor woman but if he hasn't said it aloud, no one else dares to either. No false accusations fall upon him when he has the "face of an angel". All the women flock to him in the church, cooing and praying he finds a good wife soon.

"If I'm not--like...straight, I go to hell, right?" Adam questions, sipping some of his orange juice after.

"Do you think you'll go to hell?" 

Adam's eyes roam over the kitchen as he fidgets in his chair, uncomfortable.

"I-I dunno! Shouldn't you know?" 

Sam clasps his hands together over the floral table cloth and laughs.

"Couldn't tell you. I haven't died yet," he sighs.

"My brothers say they ain't going nowhere. They'll go wherever the fuck they want when they die," Adam cries forcefully, banging a fist on the table.

"Adam, it's okay. If you're," Sam hesitates, "if you're gay."

"My brothers like boys, too. They tell me that they don't care about gender or nothin' like that. They tell me the bible ain't shit--"

"Hold on, hold on," Sam puts a palm out and sets his cup aside.

"Dean said people around here always label them and say some cruel shit. He gotta tell me not to believe anything my friends at school tell me about 'em. Every day there's somebody tellin' me my brothers like cock and they don't care where they stick their dicks," Adam whispers in fury, his blonde head hanging.

"But Adam you don't have to listen to them. Alright?"

"But they don't know that I like cock, too."

The admission is more of a taunt at the ones who tease him. Adam is an impostor in their straight world.

"I...that's alright. There isn't anything wrong about who you like. The, uh, church always tells me not to tell you guys that. Tell you it's okay to find anyone or everyone attractive," he bites his lip and attempts to ask God for forgiveness.

"Sam. Do you like boys?" Adam's voice trembles with curiosity and Sam can't look at him.

He sucks his lips inside his mouth and sets his eyes on the dripping sink when images of Adam's brothers come to mind. Sinful things.

"Sam," Adam asks again.

"I-I-I," he stutters with his heart rate picking up.

"Dean and Jensen think you're pretty. They tell me about the things they'd like to do to you and some of them aren't nice," Adam coaxes him out, touches his fingertips.

Sam hiccups, once, and curls into himself, but lets Adam take his hand. Hope is blooming in his chest that the men he, let's face it, like have interest in him. Long repressed sexual desires coming to the surface.

"When I say they aren't nice, I mean they're so nasty, you'll love it," Adam rasps, tightening his grip.

"Adam--Adam, they shouldn't have been telling you those things. That's something you keep to yourself--"

"I told them you'd be here and they're on their way already. With Castiel. You know, they always say when you're between two evils, pick the one you haven't tried before. You haven't tried either of my brothers. Guess you get to try them both. "

His head snaps up just in time to see the manic look in Adam's eyes. The wave of sickness he gets when the realization that Adam and Castiel are--are. And the insinuation that he would--

"Hm, here they go pulling in now."

Headlights wash over the kitchen and Adam standing up with stars in his eyes, stars for Castiel. How hadn't he noticed them before? Were they really that secretive? Adam was seventeen and old enough to make his own choices about who he wanted to sleep with. 

Boots clomp their way into the house, he hears them coming through the living room, and finally into the kitchen doorway directly behind him. Sam is strong in his faith but he's just a human, forgive him, please. 

His lust is more intense than his faith.

"Let's go upstairs, Cas."

Sam sees Adam's bare feet walk across the linoleum and disappear behind him, leading Castiel far away from the kitchen. His body is meant to be a temple, he's made sure to worship and tend to it. He's never been touched with anything less than innocent intent. 

A lighter is being flicked to light as boots make their way to the chair Adam was sitting in, same ripped up jeans from earlier today and when he lifts his face, the pale pink rosary around a wide waist. Whichever twin this is, he doesn't sit down.

"You're a good man, so we hear," a deep voice drawls, then an exhale.

"I can't judge myself," he says meekly.

Sam feels a hand tug at the ends of his hair in the back and he stiffens with a small sound. His eyes raise to the body standing in front of him. This one is Jensen, cigarette hanging from his slack mouth, and the hook of the 'J' visible on the inside of his plush lip where the cigarette weighs it down.

Jensen tilts his head while he studies the young man sitting below him. His eyes are some of the most unique he's studied before. No one really likes them this close in daylight, they rather have he and Dean in the dark where no one else will find out.

"You look pure, honey," he takes the cigarette from his mouth.

Sam startles back in the chair with his lips parted. Jensen doesn't miss how his eyes keep darting down to his groin. He doesn't like to shave there and he bets Sam doesn't do much of that either.

"Have you eaten?" Dean walks around Sam to the fridge.

Kate made rice and chicken for them, dutifully stored in plastic containers. His stomach growls at the sight of the cinnamon rolls on the top shelf but those are for the three people that truly live here.

"I plan on eating when I reach home," Sam answers calmly.

He fiddles with his fingers in his lap, his anxiety getting the best of him with Jensen's eyes on his face while he smokes away. The skin of Dean's lower back is glowing with the light of the fridge, perfectly unblemished with more freckles to show off. 

"Mmh-hm," Jensen hums around his cigarette.

He follows Sam's eyes to his brother, Dean coming out of the fridge with his arms full of their dinner and hip-checking the door to close it. His twin is dressed in a dirty t-shirt that barely reaches his waist and jeans that ride too low to be appropriate in a god-fearing town.

"Sammy. I just can't wrap my head around it," Jensen waves his hand around his head and pulls out a chair to plop down on.

"Can't wrap it around what?"

Sam watches as bow legs stretch out towards him in a crazy sprawl and the rest of Jensen's body in a slouch that could have been ugly on anyone else. The microwave starts up and Dean watches his food spin slowly.

"A priest? Father Sam!" Jensen's voice is dramatic, disbelieving.

"We watched you grow from this scrawny runt to," Dean watches him over his shoulder, "a boy who could be a man. Into a forced rendition of a holy man." 

"A rendition? I've worked to become who I am," Sam utters, his face aghast.

He's never seen a guy look so childlike yet mature in his good looks. 

"And just who is Father Sam? What makes you you?" Dean asks as he takes their food from the microwave.

Sam is left staggering while Dean settles at the other end of the table. 

"If you can't give us an answer then it must all be dramatics," Jensen cackles. 

He's looking at Dean take his first bite of white rice when they're plunged into darkness and Sam's heart plummets. Then a faint 'click' from the light above the table and it illuminates the wooden surface, nothing more. Jensen takes a long, loud drag of his cigarette and Dean's hand gets another scoop of rice.

"I am...I am a man of God. It's all I've wanted since Momma brought me to the Church when she took me in," Sam's voice is weak.

Dean's face comes forth out of the shadows to take a bite of chicken and give Sam a humored smile. His cheek bones are sharp, bags under his eyes prominent, and his smile is welcoming.

"That's all you've ever wanted? Or is it that you can't say what you've desired because god wouldn't like it?" Jensen is still engulfed where Sam can't see his face.

"God is all I've wanted to find," Sam argues, licking his lips in frustration.

"god is repressing every urge inside you to be human," Dean's mouth is most prominent.

Pale pink and full in the glaring light, greasy with the chicken. 

"God has given me life," Sam raises his voice.

He's never liked anyone else except the twins. To hear them bashing his whole lifestyle, a lifestyle he chose for himself, is upsetting. Many wouldn't want to be with Sam because of all the restrictions he has.

"god is all we've ever wanted to be," Jensen admits, his voice a detached thing.

The buzzing silence afterward is a nightmare. Sam has never heard anything so criminalizing.

"Blasphemy," he hisses.

"If god is who you devote your life to...we wanna be him--it," Dean murmurs, soft.

Their eyes glow and reflect the light, Sam is not in the presence of good men.

"I am a part of those who seek to be righteous."

"That's hilarious. Because we are the righteous men, Sammy," Dean laughs, pushing the food to the middle of the polished table.

There's that bubble of stillness, again. Oh, good heavens, you! It almost makes Sam feel at peace. But both of them stand at the same time, abruptly.

"You need a ride home? We're getting ready to head out," Jensen asks as he stretches his muscles.

Sam's eyes zero in on the failing waistband of his jeans and the faint trail of hair that always piques his interest.

"N-no. Your father should be home soon," he answers politely.

"Alright, you have yourself a good night, Sammy."

Jensen pats him hard on the shoulder as he walks out the kitchen. He's expecting Dean to walk out without a fuss or a word, and Sam would be left with the disappointment everyone gets when their crush has to leave. 

Sam sees an arm, fingers dragging on the top, only the contours of Dean's face. He blinks and Dean is right there, right there in his face with his wild-grass green eyes. Sam stops breathing and stares into the abyss.

"Sure you don' want that ride?" Dean asks, sincere.

Sam squeaks, practically silent. If either of them are to make the slightest move Dean's mouth would-

"Fuck," he rasps, "you don't know how hard you make my dick, cherub," Dean cooes.

And they're both gone with their giggles in the night. Leaving Sam gasping.

_And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen. Matthews 6:13._

\---

He's watching the pool today, again. He went to confessional and then the early morning service to help him feel correct. Sam could barely keep a conversation with John and Kate once they came home. Adam had a new ring of hickeys on his neck when he came to greet his parents. How did Sam let that happen while he was in the same house? There was supposed to be bible study going on. Not-not sex!

"Sam, Sam, Sam."

He'd decided to wear his swimming trunks and a white shirt, the pool is iridescent, not a cloud in the sky today.

"Adam," he replies without looking towards the boy.

"You're a slippery one, aren't you?" 

"What do you mean?" he shields his eyes from the sun to make sure that kid isn't really drowning.

"Those vows are important, huh?"

He does look at Adam, now. His playful face and bruised neck. Sam feels envy at the freedom his friend holds. Envy is evil adn therefore worthless.

"Yes. It's what I live by," he shrugs.

Adam rolls his thin lips with a cheeky look in his eye, doing a little dance.

"For now. Till my brothers get you."

The sound is small, like a cat being baited. Then kissy noises behind him, a fast snap of fingers right against his ass. 

Sam yelps and covers himself, looking around to make sure no one else saw Dean sexually degrade him. 

"What's wrong, pumpkin?" Jensen flutters his lashes at him.

His rosary is red and Dean's is black. They've already been in the pool, wet with it. His eyes are delighted and hair flat on his head.

"What's wrong? We're around children, parents and people. You're acting as if I'm one of those girls you pick up on the street corners!" he seethes, walks away from the pool to start his trek into the church.

Once he gets off the grainy texture of the ground surrounding the pool, his feet meet the burning stone path towards the looming, red brick church. The back door should still be open from John going to do confessional for a few hours.

"You saying girls on street corners don't deserve respect or somethin'?" Dean swaggers on behind.

Sam's palm meets the scorching metal of the door knob and he grinds his teeth together to keep his yelp trapped inside his chest as he gets inside the cool interior. The long walk down the right-hand aisle of benches is a treacherous one. There's more smooching sounds, snaps of demanding fingers that make arousal spread across his skin. 

"You ever been kissed, Father Sam?" Dean is close, inquiring more about his life.

With an eye roll in the process, he's pushed against the wall of the confessional booth, back slapping it roughly. Dean's mouth is a whisper against his own and his warm breath is being blown gently, unintentionally, into his lips. Long, blonde eyelashes flutter over curious eyes and Sam's stomach flips.

"You don't ever--ache to have a body pressed to yours? Even if it's just for a tongue to be pushed between your lips?" Dean questions him, seriously in his face asking something so ridiculous.

And hot.

"I don't ache, period," he mutters, pressing harder into the wall.

He can hear John advising a woman from his side of the confessional. Something about infidelity. He bets it's Pamela.

"Liar, liar, Virgin Mary on fire, darlin'," Jensen sings from his place against a pew.

He's about to flare up in anger when John speaks up.

"Boys? That you?"

"Yeah, Dad. Right here," Dean smirks, putting his forearm to Sam's neck.

He can breathe but he doesn't want to, can't when he can feel the pulsing of blood pumping in those veins against his throat.

"Can you do me a favor, and ask Sam if he can sit in again for me? Bobby wants me to lead the late service tonight," John sighs from inside his wooden prison.

"Done and done, Dad."

Sam could have slipped into Hell and never have noticed with evil trying to choke him up and it's twin observing.

\---

As soon as his friend opens his door, Sam is inside following him towards the kitchen, the whole house looking freshly cleaned and bright.

"Adam, we need to go over Genesis tonight, your father asked me to do so last time and we didn't really get to. I was thinking we'd begin with--" Sam's voice dies in his throat.

Jensen and Dean are already sitting back in their chairs, jeans unbuttoned and stomachs full. They don't do much except raise their eyes while they finish licking barbecue sauce from their fingers.

"Sorry, Castiel is here, man. He'll be gone for a few days after this and we need to put the time in, if you know what I mean," Adam winks at him.

He can't stop the younger from grabbing two cups of water and turn the corner behind him to get upstairs. Sam hasn't been good at speaking to good looking people, imagine if he has feelings for these two.

"Just us here, Sammy. Dad and Kate won't get home till midnight, at least. Got a lot of time to ourselves," Jensen is saying like he's getting a child to understand.

"I thought you two weren't due for dinner till eight," Sam's voice is stilted as he slips between the back of the chair and the edge of the table.

Dean lights a cigarette and Jensen sighs while he stabs at his styrofoam plate with a plastic fork.

"Got off work early and decided to have an early dinner. Knowing you'd be here was just a plus," Jensen mutters, looking at him from under his lashes, like he's nervous. Ha.

Sam shifts, a pleasurable feeling pooling his in belly at his words. No one has been excited to have Sam come over to their house. Or to have him period. Everyone knew not to invite him to parties, Ellen knew not to let he or Jo go to those, not to invite him to slumber parties, not to ask him out on dates. Not to accept his invitation to a date. He and Jo practically wore chastity belts, everyone knew they were off limits.

"I think fate brought us together, Sammy. I think your god wants us to punch in your V-card for you," Dean is conversational, blowing smoke.

His lips are careful around the filter and his green eyes are squinted in protection against the sting of smoke. Sam finds himself relaxing, thinking about the inevitable, and looking at the vee the open jeans create around Dean's groin. So, he's always been told God makes things happen for a reason. If this is happening to him, in this kitchen only tainted by cigarette smoke, then it's meant to be.

"Never seen a man in the flesh, huh? Only in those bad dreams of yours? Ones where big men come for that sweet ass?" Jensen hums to him.

His eyes drag themselves away from Dean's body as Jensen stands up, lazy-slow, and walk over to stand next to Dean, his jeans ready to fall from his hips, too. The perfect cut of muscle and fat and God bless his soul, bless these men. 

Jensen comes for him, reaches out his left hand to thumb the smooth skin of Sam's jaw. His brutish hands are a juxtaposition to this sugary boy. He's twenty-three and Jensen has seen him in all his dreams.

"I never!" Sam retorts, pulling his knees together.

Dean stubs his cigarette out on the table, John told him to stop that, and walks forward till he can put a leg on either side of Sam's thighs, putting his brother aside. That cute face right near his crotch after a hard day's work in the garage.

"You're always staring at this same spot, where the rosary hangs. Go on and touch."

Sam is breathing in the faint smell of sweat and musk, the same blonde patch of hair an inch from his mouth. His resolve is crumbling and weak from years of his desire. So his head tips forward to press the lightest of kisses to Dean's navel and keeping his lips there for a few seconds before breaking out into a wrecked sob as his hands come to touch his sides.

"It's okay, it is," Dean whispers as he pushes Sam's head further into him.

The locks of hair are butter smooth between his fingers when he takes it in a tight grip and cold lips mouth at the rosary, and Sam is gulping down air while he digs his nails into sturdy hips. 

"Lord, forgive me," Sam shudders.

Jensen groans when Sam tumbles down to his knees with his hands running up his legs and between his thighs in reverent awe. He gets on his knees to pray to god daily, he knows those won't bruise easily while Sam praises him, for a change. 

"Sammy, look at me," Jensen tugs him back by the hair, lidded eyes staring up, when did Jensen get so close?

"We ain't bad men. So if you really don't want something," Jensen lectures him while he stuffs his hand down the front his of jeans, "you speak up an' tell us."

Sam unconsciously rocks on his knees when Jensen gets himself out, he's treated to the sour smell of musk.

"Here, you wanna see it so bad, you're whining for it, angel."

It's fat and greedy with all the blood in Jensen's body, nothing Sam's ever seen. He keeps to his vow tooth and nail, even tries to keep his hands off his own--dick to forgo doing something he isn't meant to. 

He takes two heavy slaps to the cheek with half of Jensen's length and turns away, but there's a hand wrenching him back to face the wide, pink head. 

"Give it a kiss, it'll be your first, Father" Jensen says with his lips in a pout.

Sam's eyes fall close when he leans in to press his mouth sloppily to the hot tip, jumping back when it jerks. Dean snickers and Sam doesn't have the heart to tell them that it was his first attempt at a kiss. 

No one wanted to kiss him till he promised his life to God and got pretty.

Sam wants to give Jensen's dick a few more kisses and see where it burns the hottest on his tongue, he's thinking the base holds most of it when he gets pulled up and spun around, staggering in some pain when he realizes the aching length of his cock is trapped in his slacks.

"How do you feel about losing your virginity tonight?" Dean smiles in his face, freckles smattered on the bridge of his nose.

"I took a v-vow of celibacy," Sam pants, the beginning of hot tremors racking his body.

Jensen walks out the kitchen, disappears to his left with a snort.

"Now you can take a vow of sin and sodomy," Dean shrugs like Sam's whole devotion is nothing.

He doesn't fight being manhandled up the steps with Dean grinding into his backside and breathing unevenly into his ear, all signs of his arousal. Sam hasn't felt so wanted and defiled. In the hallway there's sounds of Adam's laughter and Jensen is leaning down to unlock a door with a key around his neck, right across from the room with light spilling out.

"Seen you in all my fantasies. Always standing around lookin' innocent, knowing you didn't want to be," Dean moans.

"I always wanted to be i-innocent," Sam mumbles, and Dean slams him into the wall with a growl louder than Heaven's protests.

His face is smashed up against a picture of their whole family, Jensen and Dean looking less happy than the other three at a barbecue. 

"He's hornier than a dog, huh?" Jensen gives him a bashful, good boy smile as he opens up the door.

Sam wants to say yes, he likes it. But Dean is yanking him away from the display of family photos and pushing him towards the room. 

A red bulb sets the mood for the entire space, everything bathed in crimson and a blue light coming from an old computer on a desk in the corner of the room. It's twin-messy with clothes strewn all over the floor, the closet doors broken, the one bed on the left side of the room is unmade and the mattress thin. 

"Yeah, they threw us in this cramped ass room together. All while that brat got the bigger space," Jensen's smile is sarcastic and passive aggressive.

"Let's not speak on that," Dean purrs, "get undressed for us, Father Sam."

In this room that looks like something taken out of some horror movie where faces are distorted and clowns laugh like the psychos they are, Sam can't get naked.  
No one has ever seen him stripped down to his birthday suit and the first time he will, he's in front of two godless, godly looking men. 

"It's alright, we'll get them off for you," Jensen whispers from across the way, things moving around and clattering to the floor.

Dean's eyes look over his shoulder and his hand follows it, grasping something.

"Stay still while I get you comfortable," Dean smirks, scissors in hand.

Sam cries out when his shirt is ripped open, buttons popping off, his collar snatched from around his throat, and his t-shirt is cut straight up the middle. Hands shaking and bottom lip quivering, his torso is bare when he lets the remnants of his shirts to the floor. 

"Aw, look how smooth you are. Cute little nipples," Dean comments under his breath, eyes nothing but voids in bloody light.

Sam takes the initiative to get his pants undone and Jensen's nimble fingers are lowering them to drop around his ankles with a 'whoomp'. He tilts his face to the ceiling and prays for his God, covering his body and scared for them to remove his boxers that are always too big on his lean, pale body. Sam's never liked to expose himself to the sun, Ellen tells him he's too self-conscious for his own good. 

"Ssh, sweetie, we 'on't think your anything but beautiful, real good for us," Jensen's mouth drags along the shell of his ear.

Hot fingers slip into the front, barely brushing his cock, and push his underwear down his thighs till they can fall on their own. Sam's inside their bubble, still and at ease. 

"Oh fuck, where's the key, Sammy? Choking your fucking dick in there," Dean says in a rush, bending down to search through his pockets.

The cage hurts in his attempts to grow hard, Jensen fingering the clear plastic with fascination. 

"Once we're done tonight," Jen mouths at the back of his neck, "you're going back to our place in the morning," a precious bite, "and we're going to fuck you all day," a lick to his ear, "and all night."

Jensen makes a grab for his jaw and forces Sam to turn his head, "And all while your dick tries to break outta this thing. See how much you like it then."

Green eyes full of mirth and promise because how dare Sam try to stop himself from getting turned on. Hide his sin from their searching eyes and perverted hands. Being forced to stay soft while they use him for hours, just a hole.

"You can be our cum dump," Dean giggles, face-to-face with the cock cage so he can get that shit off.

All 6'4 of holy boy exposed to them, deviants who take virgins as their prize. Flat planes and cuts doused in red for his weeping dick to cry over some more. He gets the plastic off of Sam completely and watches in awe as he thickens in seconds, bobbing up and up. 

"I'll get the lube," he rises from the floor, "get him on the bed," Dean tells his twin. 

Sam's eye catches on the flood of white light across the hall and it hits him that the twins never closed the door. Jensen lays him down vertically on the bed and steps quickly to shut the door, but Sam makes eye contact with Adam in the hallway, either way, a blinding smile overtaking the blonde's face. Then Sam is shut back into his hellish dream. 

Jensen is climbing out of the light-wash jeans he's wearing, fluidly, watching Sam watch him. 

"It's--it's big," he stutters, grabbing his dick and squeezing. 

Dean is hovering over him in the next moment and doesn't hesitate to take his first kiss, first one with a mouth, and Sam whimpers helplessly with the onslaught of sensation. Jensen is pushing them onto their sides, Dean in tune with his twin that he falls gracefully to Sam's left without breaking the kiss for a second. 

"That's it, cherub, just give into it," Dean pants into his open mouth.

Sam is claimed by tongue and teeth, a warm body along his back, and slippery fingers making a move for his asshole. The bed smells faintly of stale smoke and laundry detergent, their mattress is thin and Sam never saw a second bed. There wasn't space for one.

"We had to sleep together or one of us would have ended up on the floor," Jensen informs him from behind.

Sam chances a look at the other twin while Dean is busy bruising his neck, sending Sam into spasms and cries. 

"You can see why he and I grew a little too close after some time."

 

There's some shame in it but not enough wiggle room for Sam to be the one to discredit them, not giving anyone the right to shame. 

"I've never kissed anyone before. N-no one wanted to kiss me until I made a vow," Sam confesses to the both of them.

Jensen eyes don't hold any pity and Dean takes his thigh to throw over his hip, they like that idea.

"I hope you don't mind, but when we fuck it isn't ever vanilla. You won't be much of an exception, we'll go sorta easy on you," Jen stands from the bed to get to the speakers on the desk.

Dean chuckles into Sam's sweat soaked neck and he watches with innocent eyes as Jensen clicks a few buttons, turns up the speaker, and music blasts out. Music of the Devil the Church tells all the children from young. Hard, raunchy rock that would set their loins on fire and lead them to a life bound for Hell. 

"You gonna be a nasty boy for us, babe?" Dean asks, breathy like something is funny.

God hates the dirty ones

Sam takes heed to the growling lyrics, pushing his face into the crook of Dean's neck. They'll destroy every fiber of his being doing this to him. Sex is the one thing he told himself he'd avoid, the number one thing when he saw Jensen and Dean in the hallway when they were in high school and Sam was nothing but this short nobody.

Jensen's fingers are back at his entrance and looking to get inside as fast as humanly possible. Sam lets him in without a thought, doesn't do it on purpose, but his body has been neglected for his entire life. What was he expecting? 

"You clean everywhere?" Jensen groans, thrusting his middle finger inside with his index.

Sam eats with his health in mind and cleanses his body, all of it, and so what? He prepped for this in some way. 

"Not anymore," his voice is strained, Dean pulling him wide open for Jensen to get deeper. 

It stings down there and he curls into Dean's chest with wounded whimpers, he knows it should hurt with two eager fingers shoving and twisting to get him lubed up correctly. Sam mouths at the sweaty skin of Dean's shoulder to steady his breathing. 

"Have you thought about feeling my mouth around your dick?" Dean asks into his ear, fingers keeping his right cheek spread.

Sam shakes his head, moaning as he sinks his teeth into muscle with his eyes shut. Jensen scissors his fingers and curls them against spongy tissue sensitive enough that Sam jumps, yelping. 

"Don't lie to him, tell him you want it," Jensen mutters, going back to his patient thrusting.

The music goes into a lull between songs and Dean looks down with pupils the size of bowls, egging him on to beg. Ask him to put his pouty lips around Sam's cock and suck him till he cries real tears.

"I want," his lips quiver, "I want you to suck my d-dick. I want you to fuck me." 

Dean snarls, "That's what we wanted to hear."

Sam's whole body locks up while Dean slithers down the bed until he's breathing warm air over the damp head of Sam's cock, throbbing with his heart. 

He's so self-satisfied with himself when he licks Sammy and the kid gasps, he doesn't stop there, grips him to pull the long line of him into his mouth. Dean honestly likes him, gets a faint feeling within his crisp of a chest when he sees Sam. 

"Wait, not too--not so fast!" Sam sobs, almost kneeing Dean in the chest. 

The angle is wrong for Dean to take more than a few inches into his ravenous mouth, one of his hands gripping Sam's thigh to keep his leg still. Half his body is hanging off the bed and his ribs dig into the edge as he pants through his nose. 

"Fast is our game, baby," Jensen says.

Sam feels his heat and sweat bleeding into the bed and Jensen trying to poke a third finger into his stuffed hole. 

"Last one, Sammy, then you can try taking some dick next."

He's too busy paying attention to the tricks Dean is doing with his tongue to the crown of his cock, choking himself to let Sam feel the flutter of his throat. He's being crushed alive inside his heat. And his brother pressing on live wires inside his sacred place, lodging his heavy fingers inside to the last knuckle. 

Sam bears down to take the third into him, his rim already flaring up fiercely. God will punish him for ruining his body willingly. 

"Doesn't hurt so bad, hm? It'll grow on you, you'll end up wanting it all the fucking time," Jensen's voice is desperate and breathless.

"Dean, you're about to make me," Sam's voice tampers off into a croaking sigh.

"Don't let him just yet, edge it," Jensen commands on a whim, getting up on his elbow and curling three fingers into Sam's prostate.

Priest boy is so soft in there, sucking him back in with every pull outward, and Jensen needs to get up in the cherry-red of newly broken in ass. Dean smiles at their new toy and gets up from the bed.

"If you lay on your stomach the first time, it'll be easier, my dick slides in at a better angle."

Dean sees Sam clench around the fingers keeping him cracked wide open, lets Jensen turn him onto his stomach. This could be another one of those nightmares where he wakes up in a cold sweat after he finds that sinking every inch of himself into Sam was just a fluke.

Impossible this time. The music is too loud and Jensen is straddling Sam's ass to line himself up. Sure, he would have liked to be the first one to pop Sam's cherry, but living vicariously through his brother and all that bullshit. 

Sam shakes against the sheets, scared to be doing this, afraid of the pain, fearing that he'll regret this. Ashamed for knowing he'll love it. 

Jensen runs his hands from Sam's shoulders, his ribs, his waist, and finally parting him once more. He's always liked the color red and that's why they put the bulb in, gave the room such a vile, drugged feeling. 

"Breathe, bear down, let me do this," Jensen leans down to tell Sam, smelling the coconut conditioner in his hair. 

The springs creak and Sam's body is jostled till Dean is laying beside him, eyes wide open on Sam, his mouth a supportive curve. No traces of the cocky, prideful and sarcastic boy he always sees.

"Right here with you, cherub," he mouths, his cheek smashed against the mattress like Sam's.

There are days that Sam feels as if he might lose his faith in God. Himself. He goes to dark places and loses his way.This is not one of them. 

Oh, he's in a dark place but he likes it here. 

"God, fuck, that hurts," Sam hisses, spreading his knees wider.

Dean snorts his laughter and holds Sam's fist. Bow lips are sucked inside and mixed eyes are locked up tight. 

"Haven't been inside someone this tight in so long," Jensen groans.

It catches Dean's attention, his twin a debauched mess on top of Sam's body. 

"You go in balls deep once and you're already strung out?"Dean snickers.

Jensen doesn't bother to answer and plants his knee on either side of Sam's hips, pulling completely out to burrow back inside with ease. 

"Oh my," Sam gasps, cutting himself off.

"God?" Dean finishes, lips to Sam's.

Jensen starts off steady to allow Sammy to loosen some, stop hissing each time he moves. Dean's eyes are gentle, brushing Sam's hair out of his face beside him, and shushing the kid. He takes him by the hips and tries for a faster pace, planting his knees deep into the bed.

When Jensen forces into him, rougher, he realizes the feel of the rosary against the flesh of his cheeks and the press of the cross on his crack with the tickle of pubes. Sam grabs Dean's hand and bares his teeth against the sting of his first fuck, asking for more.

Jensen pulls out and backs off to stand up, dragging Sam up on his knees without warning.

"Just to the edge, darlin'. Dig you out so good," Jensen promises.

The glide is easier and Sam curves back into it, eyes closed and moaning sweet. Dean knows Sam is the prettiest in town, better looking than he and Jensen with his mouth falling open on his screams. 

"Really giving it to him, Jenny," Dean baits him, he'd hear Sam make some more noise.

Jensen is grappling for a hold of chestnut hair, both hands yanking Sam's head back viciously, and snapping his hips forward without remorse. Dean steals Sam's shrieks with a kiss, filling his mouth with their saliva and the tremors of Sam's jostling body. 

"Dean, he's about to come, fuckin'--" Jensen chokes out, throwing his head back.

Dean is quick to jack Sammy off onto the bed, the priest rambling between yelling out for god and hissing at them, damning them to hell. He's tired after, only staying on all fours thanks to the hands clenched in his hair, ripping follicles out. The only thing he's aware of is the pounding his hole is taking.

"At least he can't get pregnant," Jensen chuckles.

Squelch of lube from him and Jensen stills above his body, curling over Sam's back as he spills, coating him inside out with warm come. It's new and disgusting, the base of Jen's dick pumping violently, but he likes it so much, squeezes around Jensen's twitching cock to let more of his release bubble and fall out.

"Tighter than a bitch," Jensen laughs, exhausted, into his ear.

He's pulling out and heaving himself off the bed, leaving Sam to try and catch his breath into the covers. Dean is there, though, turning him over with care. The bright red light is blinding in his sensitivity, exposing his sodomized skin. He throws an arm over his eyes but never closes his spread legs, his toes skimming the wood floor.

"Do you want me?" Dean asks him, touching him with a tentative hand.

"How could I not?" he replies without looking.

Dean tilts his head at the boy who won't look at him. Shrugging, he gets on his knees between Sam's legs to push two fingers back into the sore-looking rim and scoop out all of Jensen's come and lap it up. Slippery, salty and familiar in his mouth.

"Are you--is that Jensen's?" Sam stutters, peeking down at him.

"Way to go, genius. Here, have some," Dean delights, stretching his arm out.

Sam stares at the index finger coated in what was just inside him. He's not sure until it's put inside his mouth by force, spread over his wriggling tongue. 

"Tastes like babies, huh?" Jensen cackles from his seat in front of the computer. 

"You know your humor is sorta dark, Jen," Dean cringes, spreading lube on his whole dick.

He takes both of the priests thighs and pulls his ass to the edge and up to the level of his crotch. Sam is scared, again, afraid of it. 

"A'right, just relax and--" Dean thrusts in without much of warning, one hand guiding him.

Sam opens up easily with a small cry, his fingers twitching with his cock, Dean cursing a blue streak. His lashes flutter when his hand goes back to gripping Sam's thigh, rocking back and forth to test the give

"Good and pliant, never had someone take both of us back to back so quick," Dean swivels his hips, grinding into Sam's walls.

"Always say we're too rough, too much, too big, too somethin'," Jensen rolls his eyes.

Sam could tell them that their dicks are really too fat, too thick to be inside anyone. But they're too attractive to say no to, their cocks fill you up correctly, like good dick should. 

Dean rams inside him before he can, balls slapping his cheeks and his lip tucked between his teeth. The bulb might be smothering him in its heat, beating his skin down with it and forcing sweat to pour out of their very pores. Sam is purple at the crown, aching and dripping, and is nuts tense and tight at the base. If Dean keeps tilting his hips up inside him while he gets fucked, he'll be making a mess all over his heaving tummy. 

Jensen changes the music to something more calm, still all guitars and raspy voices, but it makes Sam feel...different. Less reserved, like lips and safety on his heated flesh.

It all seems to slow around him, they're putting that bubble up again, and the slap of skin blends clean with the snare drum of the music. Dean's spiky hair is droopy with his sweat and his glassy eyes staring at his face, Sam hates the cross swaying from his abdomen. In time like molasses, his spindly arm and fingers are reaching to yank the rosary, break it. The beads blast apart and bounce off his stomach, his balls and dick, and the floor. 

Dean's smile is pure-sin-proud, beaming at him like a memory Sam is replaying in his head even though it's happening presently. 

Suddenly, Sam is free of vows. He can feel carnal desires, his sexuality. All his sensuality, traces his fingertips up his sides and across his own nipples, pursing his lips on a hungry moan. God gave him all this to feel, to live, to fuck and be fucked. Why deny all of it to be something he wasn't born to be.

"Look at all that repressed slut come right outta him," Jensen admires from afar.

He makes his way over to them and raises his eyebrows at the shake of the bed, the cheap metal frame slamming more dents in the wall. Sam is panting in time with Dean, eyes intent on one another, and his own fingers pinching his pebbled nipples. 

"Let me help you out, angel," he drawls, kneeing his way onto the bed. 

His hands knocks Sam's out the way, smiling faintly when their eyes meet, and the tips of his fingers finally collide with the sensitive skin of his chest. Teasing and brushing along both tender nips, watching Sam gasp and whimper. 

His hair is matted to his forehead and his face redder than when he stands in the sun all day, and Jensen knows it isn't just the light. Sam's breath is fucked out of him and his whole body jumping. That's one of the parts he likes most.

Dean stutters to a stop with a shout, breathing hard as he empties hard, truly busting a nut into Sam, he could sob with it. But he settles for a high-pitched sigh when he's done and spreading the mess around in there.

"That's disgusting," Sam wrinkles his nose.

Jensen tweaks a nipple and goes to suck on the other.

"You let us mess all up in your guts, so how nasty can it really be?" Dean shrugs, eyes low.

Sam reaches down to touch himself and looks for their approval. Jensen is humming into his chest, tonguing his nipple and Dean smiles.

"Go 'head, 'm still hard enough for you," he drawls, using his legs to move Sam on his cock.

Jensen rolls the hardened peak between his forefinger and thumb at his leisure, suckles on the other, and Dean conducts Sam's movement on his jizz wet dick, his shaft brushing his prostate. 

"That's it, darlin'. Feel another one coming on, right? Don't be ashamed, just let it go," Jensen murmurs, hot against his skin.

Why did Sam choose to wear that cage, why refuse to feel the slow coil of tension in his body? The heat unfurling from his toes, numbing his legs, tightening his hole around Dean's softening dick, and finally erupting out of him in great bursts. Seeing scarlet light, green eyes, and life with his eyes open while his come splatters up to his chest, loud and lewd. 

Dean is pushed out with contractions and sets his legs down while Jensen gets him through the aftershocks. 

"Shush now, honey," Jen croons, holding his face in a calloused hand.

He sees his heartbeat in his eyes. He sees Jensen and Dean turning his body to lay down correctly, back to Jensen's chest. 

"Shit," Dean breathes, "we wanna keep you with us forever."

"Forever?" Sam repeats, barely anything when Jensen curls an arm over his waist.

Strong and protective, pulling him close to his own naked body. Dean stands in front of them with eyes like home. 

"Yo! Mom and Dad will be home in ten minutes, better get Sam dressed," Adam pounds on the door.

"Tell them we're asleep when they come in. We'll sneak him out when they're asleep!" Dean yells back.

Sam turns his face into the flat pillow and curls his arm over Jensen's.

"We're leaving soon, Sammy," Dean says.

That makes him blink his heavy eyelids open.

"W-what? No."

"You could...you could come with us," Jensen gives, hopefully in a small voice.

Someone sniffles awkwardly. Sam could leave. Jo did and went off to college. Having the time of her life, too. There isn't much holding him in this town, Ellen has been pushing him to venture out of this dead end.

"We've had our eyes on you a long time, cherub," Dean confides in a raspy whisper, his eyes are saucers.

Baring this to him.

"I thought I was the one watching you guys for so long," he sits up, still holding Jensen's arm around his naked waist.

"When you watch us for long enough, we watch back. You've just managed to keep us interested."

"For how long?" he scoffs.

"Forever?" Jensen laughs, getting up to lay his head on Sam's shoulder.

"C'mon, we're going to California. We heard Jo goes to Stanford, you can go with her while we work."

Sam knows them from afar, always. He never doubted that they were good men. Why did the whole town treat them like shit? Or some sort of trash? Sam never really knew.

"If I go," he clears his throat, "I don't want to be a priest anymore."

Both twins laugh together, boisterously. He's only heard the melody from afar.

"No one said you had to be. We were kinda hoping you'd give that up. A threesome with two brothers isn't exactly the work of god," Dean smiles.

"If it happened then it kinda is, jerks," he flushes, falling back.

"Bitch," they answer in unison.

Dean fits himself onto the small bed and goes face first into the pillow beside him.

"I'll go with you two," he closes his eyes.

"Gonna run away with us, Father Sam?" Jensen grunts.

"Yeah."

He's ready to leave the church, the town with all its bible thumpers, and god. 

 

**Leviticus 20:13 --If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood [shall be] upon them. ******


End file.
